Ben Hopper

I'd like to meet:

All of the little dots:

Music:

Jazz.

Television:

I saw a commercial that said, "Forget everything you know about slipcovers!" ... So I did. And it was a load off my mind. Then the commercial tried to sell me slipcovers, but I didn't know what the hell they were. (M.Hedberg)

Images:

Books:

Miles Davis - Autobiography Anything by Jorge Luis Borges, Jack Kerouac, Joseph Heller, Matisse, Gauguin, Renoir ...
Poem: The Icecream People
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better.
however, things change overnight--
instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities:
we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors:
Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry, Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...
we park outside and look at icecream people
a very healthy and satisfied people,
nary a potential suicide in sight
(they probably even vote)
and I tell her
"what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?"
"come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people.
none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks.
there seem to be no hangovers or grievances.
I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a leper in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them.
I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while...")
--those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals...
and later that night
there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious,
long and true,
and afterwards we speak of easy things;
our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other's arms.
the icecream people make me feel good,
inside and out.
By Charles Bukowski

Heroes:

"Beautiful girl can turn your world into dust" (Radiohead).
In George's own words: "... Hey, I got 341 days sober and next year's my 50th anniversary in show business. Let's do a fucking show, haah? ..."

"I'm a Modern Man"

George Carlin, November 5th, 2005
Beacon Theater, NYC

I'm a modern man.
I'm a modern man.
I'm a modern man.
I'm a modern man.

I'm a modern man,
A man for the millennium,
Digital and smoke free.

A diversified multicultural postmodern deconstructionist,
Politically anatomically and ecologically incorrect.

I've been uplinked and downloaded.
I've been inputted and outsourced.
I know the upside of downsizing.
I know the downside of upgrading.

I'm a high tech lowlife.
A cutting edge state-of-the-art bicoastal multitasker,
And I can give you a gigabyte in a nanosecond.

I'm new wave but I'm old school,
And my inner child is outward bound.

I'm a hot wired heat seeking warm hearted cool customer,
Voice activated and biodegradable.

I interface from a database,
And my database is in cyberspace,
So I'm interactive,
I'm hyperactive,
And from time-to-time,
I'm radioactive.

Behind the eight ball,
Ahead of the curve,
Riding the wave,
Dodging a bullet,
Pushing the envelope.

I'm on point,
On task,
On message,
And off drugs.
I got no need for coke and speed,
I got no urge to binge and purge.

I'm in the moment,
On the edge,
Over the top,
But under the radar.

A high concept,
Low profile,
Medium range ballistic missionary.
A street-wise smart bomb.
A top gun bottom feeder.

I wear power ties,
I tell power lies,
I take power naps,
I run victory laps.

I'm a totally ongoing bigfoot slam dunk rainmaker with a proactive outreach.
A raging workaholic.
A working ragaholic.
Out of rehab,
And in denial.

I got a personal trainer,
A personal shopper,
A personal assistant,
And a personal agenda.

You can't shut me up,
You can't dumb me down.
'Cause I'm tireless,
And I'm wireless.
I'm an alpha male on beta blockers.

I'm a non-believer and an over-achiever.
Laid back but fashion forward.

Up front,
Down home,
Low rent,
High maintenance.

Super size,
Long lasting,
High definition,
Fast acting,
Oven ready,
And built to last.

I'm a hands on,
Foot loose,
Knee jerk,
Head case.

Prematurely post traumatic,
And I have a love child who sends me hate mail.

But I'm feeling,
I'm caring,
I'm healing,
I'm sharing.
A supportive bonding nurturing primary care giver.

My output is down,
But my income is up.
I take a short position on the long bond,
And my revenue stream has its own cash flow.

I read junk mail,
I eat junk food,
I buy junk bonds,
I watch trash sports.

I'm gender specific,
Capital intensive,
User friendly,
And lactose intolerant.

I like rough sex.
I like rough sex.
I like tough love.
I use the f word in my email,
And the software on my hard drive is hard core, no soft porn.

I bought a microwave at a mini mall.
I bought a mini van in a mega store.
I eat fast food in the slow lane.

I'm toll free,
Bite sized,
Ready to wear,
And I come in all sizes.

A fully equipped,
Factory authorized,
Hospital tested,
Clinically proven,
Scientifically formulated medical miracle.

I've been pre-washed,
Pre-cooked,
Pre-heated,
Pre-screened,
Pre-approved,
Pre-packaged,
Post-dated,
Freeze-dried,
Double-wrapped,
Vacuum-packed,
And I have an unlimited broadband capacity.

I'm a rude dude,
But I'm the real deal.
Lean and mean.
Cocked, locked and ready to rock.
Rough tough and hard to bluff.

I take it slow.
I go with the flow.
I ride with the tide.
I got glide in my stride.

Drivin' and movin',
Sailin' and spinnin',
Jivin' and groovin',
Wailin' and winnin'.

I don't snooze,
So I don't lose.
I keep the pedal to the metal,
And the rubber on the road.

I party hearty,
And lunch time is crunch time.

I'm hanging in,
There ain't no doubt.
And I'm hanging tough,
Over and out.